Long distances we have flown

Crossing Mountains, rivers and oceans wide

Always with the group, one is never alone

We help each other, to save energy - we glide!

On our strengths we work, weakness none

We eat what we need, the rest we shun!

We live in harmony, different from you humans

We don't need inspirations, nor roses or guns!

We want to wish for you a world without hate and greed

A world of togetherness, with every kind and creed!

WHO AM I?

Everyday a question sits

Awaiting an answer from somewhere

A quest that began years ago

Do I have the answer yet?

Running races on different lanes

Living lives on colored planes

I look up at the heavens above

And yet again the question comes – Who am I?

 Deep inside a hidden need,

Secrets & lives; that are full of deeds!

Lessons to be learnt, stars to be earned,

The answer still evades – Who am I?

  

Having lives the many lives

Crossed oceans in many high tides

The numerous peaks I may have climbed

Deafening sound of the question fills my mind – who am I?

  

As time goes by more questions rise - What am I looking for?

What am I here for?

Will there be a moment so divine,

Where I find my answer to – ‘Who am I?’

Time Marches On...

Time Marches On...


It’s been on my mind for a while, but I was procrastinating writing them down!
This morning, a usual Sunday morning, I sat listening to one of my favourite- Tracy Lawrence. In all his numbers, what caught my attention was the track “Time marches on…”. And there it was!A smile across my face, like a flash right in front were the years that have gone by and memories sweet & sour. Time really had marched on! Memories of us all in school uniform, Khaki bags- the old military bags, kept in a long winding line. From far it would look like a long brown Python enjoying the morning sun!

The boys played and we girls stood aside making small talks – topics? Well, difficult to recollect. We would wait for the school bus. The rush & the push began at the sight of the chocolate cream coloured outline at a distance.
“ Bus aa rehee hai…”( The bus is arriving!) would be a shout from someone who first spotted the bus. At the door of the bus would be Gopalji one of the many assistants – we called him “Conductor ji”. He was famous as he would say “Bus Chho baaje aayegee.” ( Bus would arrive at 6 o clock). There used to be an unnecessary emphasis on the “Chho” !

As I moved backwards in time, I recollect having a routine and busy evening, after school. Unlike most children today, who spend time in front of the TV or young girls who hang around chatting, we were a rather active bunch! Back from school at 4 p.m., barely had the time to kick off our shoes, a quick wash & grab some food, we were out of our houses to play for a clear two hours. No one wanted to get home before the street lights came on! That meant it was 6pm & time to go home, Buddy.

The games we played? Oh! there were so many, the simple Hopskotch with its mutations – the 8, 6 or 9 blocks! All had different rules! Then the boys joined in to play, the games changed to a Football, a Hide & Seek, a “Gulli Danda” or a “Pitto” - a game with seven stones & a tennis ball. How it hurt when someone hit you with the ball! OOuch!

The streets, rather lanes, would resound with the screams of Victory! And sometimes the boys would get into fist fights! I used to be very scared of that! All of this formed the DNA of our childhood & am sure it was more or less the same for us all across India!

Often wondered, 'where are these friends, ones from the school, then college and some friends I made during my career journey?' There were so many names that would come back & forth and so many an incident that would bring a smile on my face. And when my brother & I sat down talking, we would exchange notes on some stories we could recollect. Each time wondered where were these people!

As if like a magic, technology answered our questions. The networking sites- an Orkut,a Ryze probably some of the first of its kind. Heard of it but did not log in. Then came Facebook. O My God! Here they were! All those lost friends of mine – year on year, almost all of them were right in here! The world suddenly became so small, distances reduced, I feel as if I can hear them talk! In some cases – it was just a call away!


And even as Time Marches , we remain connected! Thanks to technology once again - Its now a truly small world!

Those were the days my friend… ‘The Telephone’

It was one of our chatting sessions that we landed into discussion on how depended we have become on the mobile & the transformation that has happened over the years on the once existing simple telephone!

Today one gets to hear about so many forms  & the youngsters are in competition to own the latest gadgette.

I recollect, when we were children, if one had a phone at home, it was a matter of pride! The heavy, black, frog like instrument – the P&T phone! 

Like all other ‘precious things at home – the radio from Murphy, the Gramophone from HMV; this too found itself decorated by a carefully woven ‘crochet’ cover. Usually of the white thread, although some homes had fancy designs on it.

The features- the look of the phone – Black, heavy, huge for our small hands those days, small circles cut out which displayed the numbers.  Not to forget that one could also lock the dial!  My uncle, a doctor, would lock his phone to stop us playing pranks! It would require a lot of strength in our little fingers to turn the dial & get it to swing back in its place… It sure was fun!

The cords too were different, they were made from a cloth like material wrapped around the wire. In some, due to high wear & tear, one could see the cord with a crumple cover waiting to break free!

The telephone generated avenues for income too.  Apart from the so obvious revenue earned by the P&T,  cleaning the instrument to keep it black & shinny; a young lady would visit us once in 15 days… or was it once a month, I quite don’t recollect. She would clean & stuff a small piece of cotton with a nice smelling liquid into the receiver! What an experience it used to be, to use a freshly cleaned, aromatic telephone!

We also recollected the occasions of making a ‘trunk call’. One had to book a call through an operator if you wished to speak to folks in other cities! The operator with an emotionless voice would tell you that it was 2 to 3 minutes and would connect you through. I would always wonder that she has heard the entire conversation – oh no! and she would keep butting in stating ‘your time booked for the call is getting over. Do you wish to extend?’ What a hurry it used to be for the series of speakers who wished to connect. Am sure it used to be the same on the other end too! The loud ‘Hello’ could be heard almost down the lane – I used to wonder why we speak so loud, almost scream I should say! High pitch, hurried movement were symptoms of trunk calls! And all the calls were book after 10 pm. Lower rates – the benefit of speaking to all the members for a few minutes more! In some families the order of the speakers would be formed – 1^st the eldest, then the next and then the next and so on so forth. So by the time the young ones got to speak to their favourite aunt or uncle – the time was up! Crying at this unfair deal, the child would sob to sleep.

Ah!  not to forget the ‘PP’ concept which came in a few years later. You were one of the fortunate to have a phone at home & one could connect directly from home. Then came the progressive times when the operator was done away with & one could dial the number directly! Here the neighbour – the less fortunate ones;  gave your number to their relatives to connect when required. You had the responsibility to call them when a call came for them. The calls would come while the family was on the dinner table and lo behold the whole neighbours family were in your sitting room answering the call ! You would sit & wonder how long would these conversations last! For the neighbour, I always got a feeling that it was more like an outing – pre or post dinner, depending on what was their dinner time.

Almost at the same time was the mushrooming of the STD booth at every nook & corner of streets. These were also  another opportunity to earn. I recollect in Kolkata, many young boys and old ‘dadus’ ( Grandpa’s) sat at the STD booths.  What I also recollect were the long winding lines outside the booths. One would need a lot of patience to keep standing, waiting for your turn. And just in case the person inside took a long time, laughed & joked to the other side, the climatic conditions outside would see the movement from an amber to a red! The rumbling, mumbling would slowly start – “How long will he talk? , We are also waiting?’ etc. In Kolkata the lines would be in Bengali of course!

The progress in connectivity was so fast in the last decade, the advent of the Mobile phone completely changed the country! To add to this difference, we saw the same service providers bring in broadbands which also brought in the change in the landlines. Telephone installed in 24hrs ! This was an unbelievable in the past! Not to forget the cosmetics of the phone, Sleek, colourful, with CI flashing and so many other features getting plugged in!

Every individual, is connected! This is only one aspect of change that has swept the life of an average Indian. A mobile is no more a matter of luxury! This generation is born with an iPhone and the dexterity to use any gadget at their disposal! I learn from these kids the functioning of these devices – Would love to call it reverse coaching! 

Raindrops & Memories

Raindrops & memories

Month of May ! Summer has set in and Bangalore has never been so warm, even a few years back! The mornings are pleasant but as the day grows... Weather is changing! 

There is something nice about summers- the 4o'clock rains! So typical in a tropical country and of course in most equatorial parts! The dark rain clouds ; Cumulonimbus; cover the blue sky which looked so dry till about a few minutes ago...and the downpour begins!

Big drops of rain, the skies burst open with lightening, the roaring sound follows! The sound of thunder echos across the cloud laden skies and the lightening flash their ugly streaks cutting across the dark clouds.. Sometime they are red! one could weave a story to keep a child quiet!

Swaying tree tops, chattering sound on the tilled roofs and the skylights- the music goes on!

A little away from our apartment is a lake that has a stretch of swampy land.The white Pond Herons share their experiences sitting in the rains! We call this species 'Bok' in Bengali. Rabindranath Tagore has written a song that comes to my mind - ' Megher Kole Kole jai jey choley Boker paati...' ; against the dark clouds flies across a team of Herons! 

I am reminded of my childhood in Jamshedpur - Summer vacations, no school, only  a few pages of homework to be done - mom's rules... but parents usually didn't mind if we missed doing these till we hit the senior school! We had a big garden and lots of big fruit trees - Mangoes, 'Cheeku' and of course Guava trees... Below each tree would be line of circular brick forms to ensure water stays! Little Sparrows and Mynas would often take a bath in there during these summer afternoons! 

My brother & I would put on a central tree - a rudimentary bird feeder - A coconut shell with grains for them.... ! We would watch from our window the series of events and try and figure out if ' this bird was here yesterday... or was it the other ....'

Then as the 4 o'clock rains started... and the hailstones fell, we would be excited and run to get our colorful umbrellas- run to collect the hailstones form our big lawn ! Ah and also a few small green Mangoes that would come off the branch  as it swayed in the rains!

I also recollect playing , being the Frog!.. What fun it used to be... Each house had those big black umbrellas, they were the only ones that could stand such heavy rains! The fancy ones were still not in...  We had 3 big Umbrellas - the biggest was one that could contain my brother & I ... I used to call it 'Dadur Chata' - 'Grandpas Umbrella'. We would sit under it outside in the rains and pretend we were frogs! Big drops of rain, the big protective umbrella and our smiles!

So many simple things that brought us such joy - the sound of rains, the paper boats that we raced in the narrow garden drain around our house, the biting into the green mangoes and making my brother run into the house to get some salt...Life was so simple and our wants to few !

( Picture - Herons in the Rain near the lake in our locality)

As I watch the rains drenching & quenching the thirsty mother earth, memories flood in and I sit sipping a hot cup of tea....

As my heart cries in pain...

The news took me behind by at least 15 years! 1995; a year i will never forget ! A year that made me grow into a more responsible woman !

I lost my dad; my friend, my guide, my role model, forever!

May 27th 1995, was the end of all the pain that he was going through. The pain that one can't spell out, a pain that is caused by one of the most feared diseases - yes, Cancer! A fast failing health since Jan 1995, but the fighter spirit kept him going for a few months more.

My dad was always active & fit. He had played football in his younger days, represented the Indian Railways and had played against one of the big clubs in West Bengal. His was a Centre Forward position in the field! He also played Tennis with equal skill!

He was someone who was disciplined & believed in "Simple living & high thinking". We heard this so many times when we were young and the world around us was changing fast! He was a man of commitment both in professional sphere & of course in his personal life. He was caring & respectful and life had not been very easy with him. He lost his dad; my grand dad, in the early years and had to put in a lot of effort to move up in his career and balance family responsibilities.

I saw my dad slowly get into confinement; first he stopped driving on his own, then, would just walk to the nearby shops to get small stuff for home, the movement got limited to within our flat in Kolkata and finally to his room & bed! He looked so helpless at times that I really wished there was some way I could help!

He had stopped reading, saying he didn't "feel like". Little did he know that I understood his weakening vision.

On very high dosage of medication to reduce the pain, he would still smile & say " ka karen duty par jana hai"

My dad , a proud man, a man who was always independent in thought, word & action, cried quietly in immense pain ! A pain so deep that one could never imagine its impact just by looking at this smiling, 5ft 11inch tall frame!

We chatted over evening cups of tea, he still " made decisions for the house", that's how he put it, still advised me on my career & studies, shared his experiences of the pre -independence days -1946 ;while he was in college R K mission in Belur and so many more events !

All the symptoms told me that he was reaching a point of no return & so fast that one could never imagine! It was only in the month of April , the last week, when the doctor treating him looked sad & worried.

I heard muffled crying deep at night, the pain must have been unbearable. In the morning he would again smile a "good morning" ,as we had tea together. God, I really wished there was a better way!

Today, my first cousin brother - Collin, as we fondly call him, is going through tremendous pain as he has been diagnosed for Cancer ! He too is a fighter and is a courageous & positive fellow. I have very fond memories of our childhood, during our visit to Delhi in 1973 and then when he spent summer vacation with us in Jamshedpur.

My writing today is a prayer for Collin, a quick recovery ,for his health, for strength & courage that he needs & we all need as a family.

Parrots in Distress!

( Picture taken from my Balcony on 23rd Aug morning)

Is it team work or a simple 'save the fraternity?'
Monday morning on the 23rd of August,as I sat sipping my hot cup of tea and reading the newspaper, the sudden increase in the decibels of chirping of birds caught my attention. Since it was a holiday for Onam, there was no hurry.
Stepping out, I saw at least 6 long tailed , green bodied, red beaked flying creatures!
Yes, there were so many Parrots – an unusual sight !
Even if I didn’t know the Parrot language, I could make out that there were reasons enough for the Panic!
They were flying all over the place, trying to peep into a narrow crack between the two apartment buildings across my verandah. What was wrong ? My curious self took over !
I saw the bigger of the birds, balancing on the parapet and peek into the crack! The others were squealing in panic as if crying out for help! There was a little parrot stuck in there!
Oh God , This was an area unaccessible to us without a scafolding and that at this time, was impossible!
They never gave up! Flew from one end to the other as if assuring each other and the little one “ Don’t worry , we are all there ! Everything will be fine!”
The Mynahs, who are the original residents of the place, and deftly move in & out of that little space, were also there, watching helplessly!
I stood, with my camera, clicking away & praying for their success!
I could feel their panic – these lovely creatures, some perched on the telephone wire, a lone fella , on the balcony of a flat, as if wondering ‘what will happen?’ They were trying out all tricks- placing & pushing with their red beaks into the cement, hanging from a higher place and so many other moves!
Strangely, the two big dogs in the apartment above kept them company! These are the most noisy fellows otherwise! Barking at the slightest disturbance! I guess they understood that these beautiful ones were facing a crisis! They held on to the balcony looking down silently – as if to say “ wish we could help!”
This was for almost an hour! They were able to get the little one out of the crack!
I found the zeal amazing,the honest attempts, the team work, their “never say die” attitude!
I reinforced my learning on life once again! Give a quiet support and never give up!
Life as they say is the biggest teacher!